


The Darkest Times

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celeborn hopes he finds his nephew before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Darkest Times

“Thranduil? Can you hear me?” Celeborn paced through the woods, hoping that he wouldn’t pass his nephew without hearing a response. The only thing worse would be to hear what he thought was a response, and instead find it a trick of…No. He mustn’t think that way. Thranduil was fine, just lost. He couldn’t lose another family member to the darkness.

Finally, after repeating his calls again for what seemed the hundredth time, he heard an answer.

“Uncle? Is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me! Where are you?”

“Down in a hole near the riverbank. I fell in, and I can’t get back out on my own. I hurt my ankle, Uncle.” Thranduil sniffled as he tried to look up and catch a glimpse of his uncle.

Celeborn found the hole and leaned over it. “I have never been so glad to see you in my life. Come on, I will lean down and pull you up. Can you reach my hands if I do?”

“Yes, I think so. You won’t leave me alone, will you? I’m scared.”

Celeborn glanced around at the darkness. He hated times like this, when the stars were covered entirely by the clouds. The lack of light to see by, other than whatever torches he managed to keep going, was suffocating. “Of course not.”

“What if she comes back?” Thranduil peered up as he reached for his Uncle’s hands. “I can’t walk very fast, not with my ankle like this, she could catch us and drink from us before we could ever escape.”

“Hush, child. We will be fine. You’re out of that trap now.”

“Trap? What do you mean? Uncle, do you think she-” Thranduil trembled.

“I meant nothing more than that you could not escape by yourself, not that she or any of the other lurkers had anything to do with your somewhat dire straits.” Celeborn glanced around, while patting Thranduil on the back. “Come on, up in my arms. We can move faster if I carry you, you’re not too big yet.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Thranduil reached his arms around Celeborn’s neck, holding on as Celeborn began to quickly walk back towards the camp.

Thuringwethil smiled as they walked away.

Thranduil had been lucky today. She couldn’t bring herself to destroy her silver haired adversary, not when he had escaped her so many times already. Perhaps this boy would grow up to be another one like his Uncle.

It was so much more fun to watch those types of elves deal with the loss of their family and try to rescue as many as they could, than to kill them and have the fun be over so quickly.


End file.
